English Lessons
by Leovwin
Summary: Fred and George said that Bill took to giving Fleur private lessons to improve her English. This is my interpretation of how their relationship got on the way.


As I'm no native speaker it is all but imposible for me to imitate the French accent Fleur has when speaking English, so you might want to imagine it, please. (If someone wants to help me remove that error, you're very welcome)

All characters and everything you might recognize belongs to J. K. Rowling.

* * *

"I am perfectly fine, thank you very much. I would like to work now."

Bill stopped in his tracks. In the two weeks since he had got the desk job at Gringotts, London, he thought his supervisor had introduced him to pretty much every worker, wizards and goblins alike, who worked here, but he couldn't recall meeting any French women. He was sure he would remember if that had been the case.

Intrigued he set off again as the direction of the voice was his destination, too.

And there she was. Of course he remembered her, how could he not, not from his introductions through the bank, but from the Triwizard Tournament. On a desk opposite the door sat Fleur Delacour in all her gorgeous glory. A wizard stormed past him through the door, a defeated look on his face and muttered irritably "Good luck with this fire-breathing beast" to Bill, who barely even heard him.

How lucky could he get? Fleur had obviously taken over the secretary job for the department he had to write his reports for. Bill smiled to himself. Just this morning he had received a mocking letter from Charlie, asking if his desk job was exciting and if he had had any adventures with the dragons guarding the high security vaults, yet. Frustrated by how boring his first weeks had been compared to his thrilling work as a curse-breaker and irked that his brother had turned the knife in the wound, he hadn't replied immediately. But now Charlie would get his story that would wipe the grin off which was undoubtedly plastered on his freckled face. Who needed dragons, if there was a part-veela to work with?

He approached the table and cleared his throat to get her attention.

"I said I don't need your help!" she repeated fiercely without looking up from her parchment.

Bill couldn't help himself, he chuckled as he wondered what the man, who had stormed past him, had done to irritate Fleur like that. "Pardon me, but maybe _I_ need _your_ help."

That made her look up. She didn't respond immediately, but blinked a few times at him. Her beautifully curved lips parted slightly.

This isn't happening right now, she thought. After meeting him at the Triwizard Tournament she had believed to never see the man, who had withstood her charm, ever again. And now she was looking up in his handsome face and words failed her for the first time because of a man. Her grandmother would be ashamed of her. She shook her head to clear her thoughts.

"Excusez-moi. What did you say?" she breathed confused from the impact his sudden appearance had on her.

She had to admit she had been impressed by his open and cavalier behaviour back then and she had been pleasantly surprised by how he stood out from the crowd with his provocative clothes, his long red hair and this thrilling fang dangling from his earring. She had glowed under his gaze as he had first spotted her. He had intrigued her as he hadn't been undressing with his eyes but had shown a genuine interest in her.

The same interest she could see in the soft look in his blue eyes now.

He dropped his report on her desk.

"I had hoped you could help me and deliver this to the boss, maybe check it over before you give it to him," he told her and smiled.

"Of course," she answered ineloquently. She could have kicked herself for this moment of stupidity. Now of all times...

"We've met before. You're Fleur Delacour, aren't you?" he asked, tilting his head a little and looking her intently in the eye as if trying to remember something very hard. A soft frown appeared on his handsome face.

"Yes, I think we have. You visited Harry Potter before the third task of the Tournament," she told him and tried an easy smile. Suddenly she felt a bit of sympathy for all those fools who ran after her and stumbled over their own feet in the process. Somehow she now felt just as foolish.

"Yes, I did. I thought I'd never see you again. So, you're Mr. Lewis' new secretary?" He jerked his head in the direction of her boss' office. "I didn't know he was ... exclusive enough to get you away from France – or anyone. Why England?" he joked, but scratched his neck nervously at the same time.

She shuddered. If she had come for any particular person it would be him or the slight chance to see him again.

"I came here to improve my English. I work only part time," she hurriedly explained and a smile lit up his features.

"I'm glad you chose Gringotts then." He laughed a slightly uncomfortable laugh and she noticed that his ears had turned slightly pink. Her own cheeks felt a little warm. But he recovered quickly, "So, what did that guy..."

"Mr. Weasley, would you please not keep Miss Delacour from working!" thundered Lewis' voice from his office.

Bill let out a low, half suppressed groan that went straight through her body. The conversation was just getting better and a little bit less awkward, of course the boss had to interrupt now. He should have had interrupted when a couple of workers were pestering her with lunch-dates, not now.

Instead of replying with a formal "Yes, Sir" to the boss, Bill supported himself with his hands on her desk and bent down until his head was next to hers and whispered "I guess I'll hurry with my next report then to bring it to you as soon as possible" close to her ear.

She shuddered as his breath tickled her sensitive skin.

"I'll be waiting for it," she whispered back just as he straightened up again to leave with a chipper "Pleasure meeting you again, Miss Delacour!"

That went rather well, Bill thought as he strolled back to his own desk, debating over whether or not he should take a lunch break and reply to Charlie (he'd have to sent an owl from the post office as he couldn't afford to miss his owl for two or three weeks). When he'd reached his desk he decided to eat lunch but not write to Charlie until in a few days when he'd got to know Fleur a bit better. Charlie had never had his way with women as Bill had. He'd been far too much engaged with dragons and stuff. But still he had envied Bill a bit for his good looks and easy way with the other sex.

Fleur sank down in an armchair in her little flat in London and sighed. Like her first, her second day at work had been exhausting. Having to concentrate on this confusing, still foreign language had left her brain limb and those unfriendly Goblins had taken up her last drop of patience.

And then her encounter with this man! He had come back to her thoughts all day long as had the possibly furious voices of her Veela-grandmother and mother if they knew how much of a fool she had made of herself because of a man. And every time she thought about him she had the strong urge to kick herself. Why had she been too tongue-tied to even ask him for his name?

The only thing she remembered about him from their first meeting was that he had visited Harry Potter. Every child knew that Harry Potter had lost all his family so he had to be quite close to this red haired man and his family. This was not much to go on with. She could hardly go up to the girl she shared the flat with and ask her if she knew a family with a red haired man and mother who were closely acquainted with Harry Potter. That simply wouldn't do.

There was nothing for it but to ask him. Fleur Delacour had to ask him, not "Fool Delacour".

And so went the next couple of days. Bill would come over to her desk to deliver his latest report (or he would make up other reasons to have a few words with her) and they would have a quiet chat until Lewis' patience was spent and he would threateningly poke his head out his office door.

With each new day of pleasant but far too short conversations Fleur was growing more impatient for him to ask her out already and slowly doubted her Veela-charm. It frustrated her to no end and made her exceedingly self-conscious after recovering from her first shock that he seemed immune to her charm.

Bill however had the time of his live. Of course he could think of things he'd like to do with Fleur other that chat with her that would be even better, but he wasn't there, yet. He wanted to do this thoroughly. If he asked her out, he wanted them to work for a little while longer than a week. Wasn't the anticipation the best part? Besides, he enjoyed the envious glares from his co-workers far too much to risk losing the advantage of being her only equal who could dare to infuriate her without needing to fear her wrath or ridicule.

It didn't escape his notice, though, that the untouchable, untameable beauty had obviously put increasing thought in her outfit as the days passed by. Her costume seemed to creep higher up her tights half an inch per day, it fit her hips more snugly and finally she freed her silvery blonde mane from its tight bun framing her perfect face beautifully.

But Bill was a curse-breaker. He had self-control, he could contain his desire. He couldn't help but feel a bit flattered, though. As she spared his co-workers not so much as a second glance he could only assume her efforts aimed for him to finally get a move on and do something about her offer she undoubtedly knew any male in his position would die to get the chance to get.

He wondered briefly if this wordless, somewhat physical advance was as close as a Veela could get to asking someone out if the desired partner took too long in responding, as he strolled to her desk on Friday almost two weeks after meeting her at the bank. Maybe he didn't want to risk testing her patience any further, he decided, as he felt the aura of magic around her again. This had happened a few times before. It reminded him so much of Egypt where he had had to rely on his senses alone to detect the wardings and curses around the ancient tombs. But he hadn't felt it around a person before. Of course he was intrigued.

"A wonderful morning to you, Fleur. You look stunning today," he noted as casually as he could upon spotting her walking gracefully to her desk from her boss's office in high heels.

Her costume was one of ice blue silk today and her blouse had one more button undone than usual, showing a bit more of her spectacular, creamy skinned décolleté than was strictly appropriate.

Ok, maybe he had already waited a day too long with asking her out. He hurriedly tried to get a picture of Harry's cousin the way the twins had described him in his head, naked, to calm his body, which was responding eagerly to what he was seeing - especially when Fleur had reached her desk and searched for a file at the far end of it, leaning over and giving him an ample view down her shirt. Being raised to be a gentleman he tried his very best not to look but he couldn't help but see an enticing piece of black lace underneath. He almost groaned aloud at this.

He could practically hear his self-restraint crumble and break away. He gulped and took a steadying breath. He had played with fire. He wouldn't get himself burned now.

She smiled a gorgeous smile up at him and he thought he could see the mischief glittering in her eyes not unlike Fred and George. No, he wouldn't play victim for her after it had been the other way around the last few days. He wanted to enjoy his victory now.

"Good morning to you, too, Bill," she called innocently.

"How's work going so far?" he asked, determined to keep his mind occupied and leave her ignorant about his physical 'condition'.

"Very good actually. How about you? You look a bit flustered. Do you feel alright?" she inquired sweetly looking him up and down.

Of course she had noticed the arousal rush through his body and the colour in his cheeks in result to it, damn her. He could at least try to save his face now. If only Mr. Lewis could interrupt their exchange soon.

"No, I'm alright," he assured her quickly, "How was your morning?" he asked her again, desperate to keep the conversation going.

"It's brilliant today, thank you," she told him and then whispered "I haven't met a single Goblin, yet, and Mr. Lewis took a day off."

He gulped again. No chance Mr. Lewis would save him from this vixen.

"So, do you have any plans for the weekend, yet?" Better get the show on the road. Maybe she wouldn't torture him to death then.

"Oh," she said her lips forming a pretty "O" and frowned in thought.

Bill almost laughed. He was sure she knew exactly what her plans were. He wouldn't get uncomfortable because she seemed to contemplate, he told himself and tried not to actually get nervous.

"I think I'm free this weekend. Why?" she asked him in a light tone.

He smiled. "I thought maybe you could use a guide getting to know the best restaurants and bars of Muggle and wizarding London. How does that sound?"

"I'll think about it. Visit me again around lunch time and you'll have my answer," she told him sweetly.

He smiled back and had to stop himself from telling her when to meet him as this was as good as a yes. At least this was his dismissal and he could work on calming his body down without her watching.

Fleur smiled to herself as he left. Maybe her Veela-charm didn't work on him, but he was still just a man and she an attractive young woman. And two could play this game. She had to admit that it may have been a bit obvious that she would consent to his offer, but this was only for him to know that she wouldn't come crawling in his bed nice and pretty. He had to conquer her after all. He didn't need to buy her hesitation for that. It was just to make _him_ wait for once.

"Where're you going?" sneered her flatmate as Fleur draped a silk scarf artfully around her neck in front of the mirror in the hallway.

"I'm going out," she answered indignantly while telling herself firmly not to go for the other woman's throat.

Her flatmate looked at her with an eyebrow raised in disbelief. "About time, isn't it? I bet two weeks without a date must seem like abstinence for you. I'm out, too, don't expect me back tonight, but I doubt you'll sleep here, anyway, no doubt warming his bed for him a little."

"Men like it if you actually value them for the person they are and not as objects to let steam off, you know. Maybe you should try this perspective to finally get one," Fleur noted casualy hoping the other woman would get the hint and leave her be.

Her flatmate snorted while shrugging closing the clasp of her cloak. "You're one to talk. Shame on the women who only take a man for his looks – or his money."

"I hear for some women men even have to pay to have the pleasure of their company," Fleur seethed, not caring how insulting her implication was.

"Pfft" The other woman left and shut the door with a loud bang.

Fleur looked after her and huffed in anger. The nerve of some people. She was quite proud of herself that she had gotten through this argument without raising neither her voice nor her wand.

"Fleur?" she heard a call. She knew this voice. It was Bill. "Fleur, are you ok?" he called again. He must have heard the noise of the door closing. She appreciated his concern but she didn't need to be babysitted. She grabbed her hand bag quickly and left, too.

"Bill? It was just the door," she called down the staircase.

"Well, get down here, then," he shouted up to her and she had to giggle.

"Someone's eager to go," she mocked him as she reached him and kissed him on the cheek. He didn't even seem uncomfortable or smug about this way of greeting, she noticed. This could get interesting, she thought, and took the arm he offered her.

Having seen him only in Jeans, T-shirt and cloak before, it was a pleasant surprise to see him in dark robes this evening that fit his lean frame snugly in all the right places to make Fleur smile in appreciation.

"You look great, Fleur," he complimented her. She smiled gratefully. She was getting tired of those compliments even if it was a bit different when she was actually interested in the man offering them.

"You should wear robes more often. They suit you," she returned the sentiment.

"Nah," he declined and smiled. "Robes don't go with fang earrings." He turned his head to show her his right, earring-free ear. "And I hate to leave it at home. If my mother finds out I left it, she'll probably burn it or something. It's frightening to live with her again after living on my own for five years."

She snickered. On mentioning of his mother she had wondered if he still lived with his parents, as he didn't seem that type of guy.

He told her about his time in Egypt and why he had come back. She in turn told him what she'd been doing since graduation. They talked back and forth about varying topics while drinking and eating the whole evening without uncomfortable silence for even a second. Fleur didn't know when she'd last had so much fun on a date. Therefore in her eyes the evening ended far too quickly.

Bill smiled to himself as they exited the bar. The evening had been far better than he had expected. He had known than there had to be more to her than a pretty façade or she wouldn't have been chosen for the Triwizard Tournament. But somehow he hadn't been able to get rid of this prejudice until now that he knew her to have a deep, fascinating personality.

"This was a lovely evening, Bill. Would you like to come up for a cup of tea?"

This pulled him effectually from his musings. Of course he wanted to come in. For a snog maybe. 'She's different', he scolded himself, as he thought about what usually happened when his date asked this question.

"Bill?" she asked amused and waved a hand in front of his face as he didn't answer.

"Of course I want to come in. I'm dying to get to know your flat mate," he joked.

She pouted playfully at him. "I'm really sorry that our time together was so short then, because she's out tonight. I'll have another reason to hate her, when she's the cause for your death," she mocked him half seriously.

He let out an exaggerated sigh. "I think I'll manage, if you take care of me." He laid an arm around her while they were climbing the stairs to her flat.

"I'll make sure to take care of you, Bill, don't worry," she answered smoothly.

'She's a Veela', Bill reminded himself as a shudder ran down his spine at the sound of her voice. No matter how young she was, she sure was not as innocent, naive and inexperienced as she made people think.

They entered the flat and Fleur was out of his arms in a second before he heard her rummaging in the kitchen. While she was busy he decided to have a look around. To his right there was a small cosy room with a couch, two armchairs and a fire place. Further on the hall ended with a door straight ahead. There were two other doors, one to the left and one to the right. The door to the left stood ajar, so Bill decided to take a look. Inside he saw a mess that rivaled the looks of Fred and George's room. There was a bed, a desk, a bookshelf, a cupboard, only strictly necessary furniture and all was covered in clothes. Robes, skirts, shirts and underwear was fanned out on the bed, the floor, the chair was covered with it and drawers were pulled open. This couldn't be Fleur's room. She wouldn't have invited him in, if her room was a mess like this, he was sure.

"I told you I'd take care of you as long as my flat mate is out, Bill," Fleur scolded him, who had suddenly appeared behind him and caught him examining the room. "You don't need to fawn over her room."

"I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself," he apologised, playing along. "What can I do to make it up to you?" He couldn't help but smile at her. He loved being around her and liked those little games she played.

"Kiss me," she said innocently with a sweet smile on her sinful lips.

He needn't be told twice. In an instance he pulled her close to him and almost crushed his lips to hers. He'd wanted to do this since he'd first seen her. And he would gladly keep up their occupation all night. A small sound escaped him as she deepened the kiss and encouraged him to part his lips and slide his tongue alongside hers, explore her. Both of them breathed a quiet moan as she knotted her hands in his hair and he in turn walked her back against the wall, pressing her body even closer up against his. He let his hands wander up and down her sides before he broke the kiss, breathing heavily.

"Didn't you make tea?" he breathed then, because if they kept this up he didn't know if he could hold himself back and he didn't want to give her the impression that he'd just wanted a date with her for her body. This was definitely too early.

She just nodded seemingly lightheaded before she took his hand and led him to the small living room where he sat down in one of the armchairs and unceremoniously pulled her in his lap. He didn't want her to feel rejected because he'd broken the kiss she had demanded.

She squealed as he pulled her down and playfully cuffed his shoulder before she reached out and passed him his cup of tea. She smiled at him over her cup. "This really was a great night, Bill, thank you. We should do this again some time," she told him softly.

He could just smile back. He'd like that very much indeed.

And they did do it again many times. Work improved very much in Bill's opinion since they started dating and he couldn't help but write a very smug letter to Charlie, bragging just a very little bit about him dating a Veela.

Well, we all know the rest of the story about this couple.


End file.
